Day 2 - Christmas Cookies
by teddyshoney
Summary: Kurt's headed back to work from the bakery when he bumps into a very upset Blaine. He decides his time is better spent taking care of his sad husband than at work, so they go home to work out Blaine's problem. Written for the Glee Potluck Big Bang December Drabble


Kurt walked up to the doors of the bakery and peeked inside. There was a long line at the cash register, people were milling around looking at the displays, and all of the tables were full of patrons drinking coffee. He almost didn't go in. Almost. But, he'd come all the way across the city on his extended lunch break for Blaine, and he wasn't going to turn around now.

With a deep sigh, he pushed open the doors to the bakery. The bells above him jingled, and his nose was instantly tickled with the delicious scent of freshly baked food. Joining the other customers in line, he waited patiently for his turn.

This was supposed to be an apology for his husband. He knew Blaine was stressed out from trying to finish up his student teaching and write his paper on what he'd learned, and Kurt wasn't home enough to be any sort of comfort to him. Truth be told, Kurt had a lot on his own plate trying to finalize designs for the spring line before Christmas, but he wanted to be there for Blaine. The poor man did better under stress when he had someone to cuddle with at night instead of going to bed alone as he had the past several nights.

"What can I get for you, sir?" the young man behind the counter asked when it was finally Kurt's turn.

"I'd like a dozen Christmas cookies in any shape," Kurt replied, digging through his wallet for some cash.

"Icing or sprinkles?" the young man asked, turning to the storage case behind him.

"Half and half," Kurt replied without looking up.

The young man quickly put the requested cookies into a red and white striped box, placing the box on the counter as he told Kurt, "That will be $38."

Kurt grimaced as he handed over two twenties. "Keep the change," he said, gesturing toward the tip jar on the counter before snapping up the cookie box and walking out. Blaine had a sweet tooth, so naturally his cookies were going to be expensive.

Pulling his coat closer around himself against the brisk New York wind, Kurt glanced up and down the street. He didn't have a lot of time to kill before he needed to be back on the subway to work anyway, so he decided to head back toward the closest station. At least he'd be out of the frigid wind that way. Making sure his scarf was wrapped closely around his neck and his hood was up but not mussing his hair do, Kurt put his head down, walking against the wind to the subway station. He hadn't gone far when he suddenly collided with something, the box of cookies slipping from his grasp and falling to the ground.

"Um, excu-" he began but stopped when he saw who'd run into. "Blaine?" he asked. "What are you doing out here?"

"Kurt?" Blaine was just as surprised as his husband. "I-I was headed to the bakery. What are you doing?"

Bending down to grab the box of cookies that (thankfully) hadn't spilled everywhere, Kurt showed them to Blaine. "Coming from the bakery."

Blaine glanced from the box of cookies to his husband and back. "Are-are those for me?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded sheepishly, passing his husband the box. "I bought them for you as an 'I'm sorry' present."

"What are you sorry for? I was going to get you some."

"What? What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Kurt, I've been a real grouch the past couple of days. School has been really tough, recently, and...well, I've just been thinking, and..." Blaine trailed off, watching as he scuffed his toe against the sidewalk.

"Why don't we go to Starbucks, grab a cup of coffee, and talk?" Kurt suggested, looping his arm with his husband's. "I don't think we've been doing that enough lately."

"Don't you have to get back to work?" Blaine all but whispered, falling into step next to Kurt anyway.

"You know, I think I'm just going to call Isabel and tell her I'm not coming back today. I've been putting in a lot of overtime, and I think it's time I spend some time with you." He gave Blaine a big smile, nudging him with his shoulder. "You don't have anywhere else to be today, do you?"

Blaine shook his head. "No." He was silent for a moment. Then, "Kurt? Do you think we could just go home then? I-I don't really want coffee that badly anyway."

"Sure," Kurt agreed. "Let's just stop in the subway tunnel, and I'll call Isabel. Okay?" He could tell that Blaine had something on his mind, and he hated to see his wonderful husband upset. He'd do anything to make him happy again.

As soon as they got to the subway, Kurt pulled out his phone. "Is? Hey. I'm not coming back today. No, I'm fine, it's just—no. No, it'll get done. Yes. Yeah, I did that today. Okay. I'll be back tomorrow. No, not sick. Just—okay. Thanks, Is. Bye." He pushed his phone back into his pocket and winked at Blaine. "I'm all yours," he said. "What's on your mind?" Blaine seemed to be getting more upset by the minute.

"Is it okay if we wait to talk until we get back?" Blaine asked. "I just...kinda want to be alone for this."

"We can wait," Kurt reassured, rubbing Blaine's arm. "But, can you just...you're okay, right? You're not, like, dying?" He didn't think his husband would ever keep something like that from him, but he had to be sure.

"No. I'm fine, Kurt. I promise. There's just...something I've been thinking about."

"Okay. We can talk when we get home then," Kurt replied. He stood patiently next to Blaine, never losing physical contact with him as they waited for the subway. Once they were on board, he maneuvered Blaine until he was leaning his head against Kurt's shoulder. Kurt ignored the strange looks that some of the other passengers gave them. Nothing mattered outside of helping Blaine feel better.

Once they got home and had changed into comfier clothes, Kurt settled down on the couch and patted the cushion beside him. "Come here," he said, turning big eyes to his husband. "Tell me what's wrong. I don't like seeing you upset like this."

Blaine obeyed, taking a seat next to Kurt and promptly putting his head in his lap. He let out a tiny, contented sigh when Kurt immediately began playing with his hair, working to loosen it from it's gel prison. After a few minutes of silence, he said, "I've just been thinking about my future."

"Mhm," Kurt said. He didn't want to push it. Blaine would let it all out in his own time.

"I've been thinking...maybe I made a mistake. Maybe...maybe I shouldn't become a teacher."

"Why do you think that?" Kurt wondered aloud, no judgment in his voice.

"I got a bad review," Blaine whispered, embarrassed.

"From who?"

"From one of the students."

"The students reviewed you?" Kurt was surprised.

"Yeah. They fill out anonymous forms where they rate how you did as a teacher and leave comments."

"An what did this bad review say?" Kurt wanted to know.

"It said I was too nice."

"Too nice?" Kurt had to hold back a chuckle at that. "What's the problem with being too nice? Aren't teachers supposed to be nice?"

"The review said they didn't think I would be able to control a classroom because I wasn't enough of an authority." Blaine pouted when he saw the smirk on Kurt's face. "It's not funny, Kurt," he cried, hiding his face against his husband's stomach. "I think they might be right!"

"You're right," Kurt agreed. "I'm sorry. You're right. But, you do know that there's more than one way to control a classroom, right?"

"What do you mean?" He sat up a bit, studying Kurt's face.

"Well, you don't have to be mean to run a classroom. You do have to be authoritative, but there are different ways to do that." Kurt paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to say what he was thinking. "You remember out conversations about parenting?" he asked finally.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah. But what does that have to do with running a classroom?"

"Do you remember how we talked about the difference between your dad and my dad? We talked about how most of the time, your dad would yell when he was angry and mine would sit down and make me talk to him?"

Blaine nodded again, still confused.

"And we talked about how, when we have kids, we don't want to yell and scream at them. We want to talk to them, explain to them how make better choices. Remember?"

"Uh huh."

"So, you can run a classroom the same way. Instead of yelling at your students or embarrassing them in front of the class, you can sit down with them one on one and talk about their problems."

"But what if they don't listen?" Blaine whined, flopping dramatically back into Kurt's lap.

"Then, you call in backup. Ask another teacher for advice. Send the kid to the principal. No one expects you to handle every situation alone."

"They'll probably make fun of me," Blaine pouted again, crossing his arms.

"They won't make fun of you. And if they do, quit. That's not the right school for you," Kurt said. "Honey, sit up a second." He waited patiently for Blaine to sit up and look at him, his arms still folded stubbornly across his chest. "I know you will make a great teacher. Not because you can yell and scream at the kids but because you care. You want them to succeed, and you want to help them. You don't want anyone to struggle or fail or be embarrassed. Kids need teachers who care. And that means...they. Need. You." He booped Blaine's nose playfully with each word, a smile on his face.

"You think so?" Blaine asked, unfolding his arms. "Do you really think I can do it?"

"I would never lie to you," Kurt assured him. "I know you can do. You're going to be a great teacher."

"How great?" Blaine wanted to know, a mischievous smile lighting up his features for the first time all day.

"So great that I bought the best teacher in New York sugar cookies," Kurt said, getting up and walking to the kitchen.

"Am I the best teacher in New York," Blaine asked, coming after him.

"You are if you get us a plate."

"How many of those are for me?" Blaine asked after handing over the plate and watching Kurt pile four cookies on it.

"Two."

Blaine pouted.

"Fine. Three." He added another one to the plate. "Now, what do you want to do while we eat our cookies?"

"TV?" Blaine begged. "I still have to write a few pages of my paper tonight, but we haven't watched any Project Runway in forever."

"Fine. One episode. Then, if you finish your homework before bedtime, we can watch another one."

"Yes, sir," Blaine replied, sounding a little like a disgruntled toddler.

Kurt smiled widely as he shouted, "I'll race you! Last one to the couch is a rotten egg!"

"Not fair," Blaine hollered as he chased his husband to the couch. "My legs are shorter than yours, and you got a head start."

"I'll be the rotten egg for an extra bite of cookie."

"Fine. Turn the TV on, please," Blaine said around a mouthful of cookie, snuggling in against Kurt's shoulder. He let out a happy sigh. For now, everything seemed right in the world. He might have more homework to do later, and Kurt might have several more late nights at work ahead of him, but for now, everything was right in Blaine's world, and he was going to enjoy it.


End file.
